|A Twist of Fate
Author: mcc1089 PM
Christie enters the fourth King of Iron Fist Tournament to find Eddy, while traveling with King, whom they secretly have feelings for each other. Christie/King Rated T-M for graphic scenes of fights, intimacy, and one scene of torturous violence R&R!Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Adventure - King & Christie M. - Chapters: 4 - Words: 12,107 - Reviews: 14 - Favs: 11 - Follows: 7 - Updated: 03-27-09 - Published: 01-19-09 - id: 4802826
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Hey there. mcc1089 here again. Very sorry for the VERY long wait. Everything has been so crazy. My first big DJ Performance is coming up and I'm excited. So I didn't realize how much I have missed the Tekken FanFics... And for those that like the story Cub's New Life.... I suggest you never read that again. I am in the works of deleting that story due to writer's block for about two to three years... However I do intend to follow this story pretty well. Please enjoy this story and Review and tell me what I need to improve on or if you just plain like the story. ENJOY!
A TWIST OF FATE - Pilot
Three days before the King of Iron Fist Tournament 4, Christie Monteiro ran into her room to get her clothes together. She finally decided on her goal and would never waiver from it. Eddy was there… somewhere, and she was going to find him no matter what. The phone rang as she threw her clothes together in a big duffle bag.
"Hello?" she answered in a hurried tone.
"Hey, Christie. I just wanted to wish you luck and such."
"Thanks, Marco, but nothing you say will keep me here. The little relationship we had been awkward enough and you try to keep me here… I can't. I need to get back to L.A. tonight. I'm late for registration as it is." She threw another outfit into the bag with three other pairs of shoes. "Listen, I need to win this thing. I need to… go… I need to go."
"Is this about your friend? Is it this Edwin… something or other, that you constantly talk about and is the reason why we can't be together?"
"Eddy…" she shot back and sighed. "It's part of the reason."
"You told me he left and never returned. What makes you think he wants to meet up again; just because you want to win a fighting tournament? Christie… he's not coming back." With these words Christie stopped and sat down on her bed. The heat from the Brazilian coastline made her seasick just like the first day she came here to get away from her life. After Eddy Gordo left, she was devastated and ran off to a small apartment on the beaches of Brazil. She loved it at first… but after a few months, she needed to get a job, and start a new life to keep her mind preoccupied.
"Marco," She sighed as she remembered the day her friends took her to a club and right when Christie wanted to leave, Marco Rivera stepped in front of her and asked her to dance. She thought he was rather attractive, and stayed. They have dated off and on for about a year and a half, but nothing was really serious. "Marco please don't do this to me. You know how much he means to my life and my grandpa's as well. I cannot have my back turned if by any chance he is in need of help. Please, you have to understand."
"Yeah I do. Christie, I just want you to know that I still care about you… and that if you ever need a friend… that I am here, and you know where to find me."
"Thanks. I have to get going. My plane leaves really soon. Bye Marco."
"Where the hell did I put my book?" Christie thought aloud. After taking care of packing and about to walk out the door, she rummaged through her bookshelf for her battered copy of the book "Beauty", and grabbed her iPod as she raced out the door. Alberto Munoz, her landlord, took her to the airport and walked her to her terminal.
"Mrs. Murillo will be very sad that you are going to be gone for a long time. She always enjoyed being your neighbor."
"Tell her that I will come and visit after a while. I don't know how long it's going to be until I can, but promise her that I will contact her after a while and tell her how I'm doing."
"Does this mean that you… aren't going to come back and live here?" He looked hurt.
"Give me some time to think about it. It is very beautiful here, and I love the people… but I won't know what my options are unless I go." The intercom interrupted the two, and Christie gave a last hug before she boarded the plane. After helping a man put his luggage up she sat down near the window and prepared for the long flights. The first stop would be in Mexico City, and then to L.A. The sun seemed to brighten her life and give her more hope to accomplish her goal.
"Please, Eddy… please hold on." The whisper was inaudible, however she felt it would find its receiver in some way or another.
Taking out her iPod and rummaging through the songs, she noticed she had started to like the club genre a lot more than she used to. It must have been because of all the times she went to the clubs with her friends and having some fond memories of such occasions. She put the playlists on shuffle and sat back to rest her eyes. As soon as the music started, her eyes shot open. As the beat progressed, she recognized what setting she first heard the familiar tune.
"Wendy, please… I just want to go home." Christie turned toward her friend who was dancing to the beat. The club had gotten crowded and people were going nuts over the DJ; screaming his name. She had never heard of him and he was just getting on stage; a perfect time to leave, when nothing was playing.
"Oh, com' on Christie. We've only been here for an hour, and people are saying this guy is the best DJ in the WORLD! Christie, girl, you have got to start living!" The music started and people went wild.
"Silence," Christie noted to herself. "by Sarah McLachlan… only… I've never heard it this way before." The music was good, she admitted that to herself, but still she felt uncomfortable. Her friends were having a good time… why wasn't she? Eddy. She looked down at her feet and stood in place. The contrast could be visible from a mile away… anybody could see she wasn't dancing… and so did he.
"Hola, senorita. Como estas?" A tall, dark, and ironically handsome man interrupted her thoughts. She looked around to make sure he wasn't talking to some goddess of beauty behind her. She turned back and answered with a sigh.
"Uhh… crap… Hola… uh… senor. Me… no hablo espanol… mucho?" Of all times in her life….why did it have to be this encounter in which she knew next to no Spanish or Portuguese at all. She started to stress out when his gaze never wavered as he glided closer, closing the distance. He was absolutely breathtaking. His tone body, spiked black hair and piercing brown eyes that locked on to hers, made her stare at him like some sort of idiot.
"Don't hurt yourself. English is really my native tongue." The relief Christie felt was rolling off of her. "So… you like Tiësto?"
"What's a Ti…"
"Tiësto!" He said this in a way that meant she was missing something super obvious. "He is the one who is making this crowd go wild!" She turned around to look at the DJ. The screen behind him was flashing: "Silence (Tiësto Remix) – Sarah McLachlan".
"Oh… hmm. He sounds good." She looked for her friend who seemed to be still dancing with some guy she just met.
"Perhaps you would like to sit down while your friend is enjoying herself? You look like you have a lot on your mind." He stretched out his hand. Christie hesitated but took it. The place he led her too looked out the entire dance hall. The V.I.P. Suites that was mainly issued to celebrities were much smaller than they look on the outside. "Make yourself at home. My name is Marco by the way. My father is the owner of this club." Christie turned wide eyed at Marco then turned back to the action outside the window. "And… who might you be?"
"Leaving… I have to go. I thank you for your hospitable actions, but I must be on my way…" when she turned Marco snaked his arms around her in an embrace.
"The night is still young. Won't you give me a chance?" as he said this, she felt something snaking down her back and onto her back pocket. Unbeknown to her until she reached her home, he slipped his number into the pocket.
"… You wish…" With a turn on her ankle, she elbowed him in the ribs and punched him with the other hand. The force from the blow sent him staggering back. Christie started to sway back and forth, shifting her momentum from side to side, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. Usually Capoeira uses a slower, more native type of music, not the high pulse booming of Trance music, but it was easy enough to catch the rhythm.
"Damn! That's a poisonous punch. I only meant to let you see things my way." Christie stopped and started to walk out. "WAIT! I didn't catch your name." She had her hand on the handle and stopped.
"I didn't give it."
"Please. I just want to know the name of the lady of the night. It is very rare I find such a beauty with a kick." His smile was contagious and Christie couldn't help but return the smile.
"Christie. Well… I hope to see you around here again, Christie."
"Hey… Miss. We are getting off now." A middle aged man woke Christie up from her dream. The same song was playing… because she forgot to turn off the repeat option.
"Thanks." She got her bag and exited with everybody else. This was all new to her and she didn't know a lot about Mexico. She heard a lot of bad things happened, but then again… they were just legends… right? Taking advantage of the time she had between flights, she refreshed herself and got something to eat. The food smelled great, and it was hard for her to choose. She was about to choose a coffee place when a hand grabbed her shoulder. Panic struck her as she ducked down and kicked down, sweeping the offender's feet from under him. A large thud sounded and Christie looked down at the large figure.
"Ah Shit!" The man winced. He slowly stood up to face Christie, but she let out a small scream.
"What the…" Christie stood back. The man had a mask on. Why the hell would some guy come up to her in the middle of an airport with a… bear mask?
"Sorry, lady. I didn't mean to harm you. My team and I saw you come off Flight 643. We know that it is going to Los Angeles, and we were wondering how long it takes to get there, roughly."
"Uhh… Probably about four to five hours… roughly." She guessed.
"Ah. I see. Well we've never been in Los Angeles before and we need to know where some buildings are. Do you know where the King of Iron Fist Tournament 4 Registration is located?"
"Y…Yeah… I'm going there myself. I can show you when we land. LAX isn't too far from the LAA."
"The Los Angeles Arena. Registration is there."
"Wonderful. Say, would you mind if I showed you to my team? They tend to lose hope of finding anybody who can help us reach are destination. They're right over there in the waiting area." Christie looked at the implied location and saw a number of masked men of various sizes. The largest of them in a Jaguar mask.
"Uhh… I kinda have to eat…" She began but was interrupted with a waving hand.
"No. Don't worry about it. We can take care of the food situation if you just talk with us for a few moments. Anything you like, we can get you." Christie looked at the men again.
"I guess it wouldn't hurt." The two walked over to the waiting area where the men were laughing and talking.
"Gentlemen… Our savior!" The masked men turned and started to chuckle and making catcalls. Christie's face flushed as she turned her head to the side. The one on the end made no sound at all, except for a low growl. "Now now. Be nice. This beauty here is also going to be in the preliminaries for the Tournament. She has agreed to be our guide in Los Angeles." Sounds of approval were humming, again except for the man on the end. All the other masks were turned towards her, but the Jaguar one at the end faced forward with his arms crossed. Christie thought he looked familiar, but was unsure. His long black hair was scattered down his back and draping across his massive shoulders and chest.
"Do you live in the Los Angeles area?" one of the men asked.
"No…Well I used to for a while. But it's been a while. I still remember where everything is." The one that asked the question nodded and the team started up their own little conversations. Christie's stomach growled and the man in the bear mask started to rummage through his coat for his wallet. He pulled out three ones and gulped.
"Uh… King? You got a twenty to spare?" The one at the end slowly turned his head with a slight moan and growl. He stood up to retrieve his own wallet from his back pocket. The silent giant took a few steps forward and handed the man the wallet with a mighty paw of a hand. There was a hesitation for a second and even though she couldn't see his real eyes, she knew they were looking at her. Her mind was sifting through her memories as to why this "King" seemed so familiar. "Just name the place and we're there."
"Of all the places in this airport… you choose… one of the worst quesadilla chains in the world." The bear man, who had a name tag on as Alejandro, sighed.
"I doubt it is that bad. You can't really mess up melted cheese in a flour tortilla." Christie pointed out.
"Oh… You would be surprised." When the order was up. The quesadilla was char burnt on the top, the tortilla was rock hard, and the cheese smelled… really, really old. "Told you so. King would be most unhappy to know you spent his money at this place. I will find you something good." As they walked Christie got more and more curious of this "King". She decided her curiosity would kill her anyway so she went for the kill.
"I've been wondering… about this "King". Who is he?"
"King? Oh he's a wrestler who was a priest at one point in his life. But when he was affiliated with massive drinking, he was found by his father and trained to become the next King. He is really King two, but we don't talk about the other King. It's sad to look at him sometimes. After the murder of his father, he went into depression and now he's seeking revenge on the man responsible for Armor King's murder. He even paid to have the man bailed from death row so he could beat the man in the tournament.
"His life is full of anger. His orphanage is not doing too well either."
"Orphanage… wait… Is this the same King from the last tournament? The man that was one of the finalists?"
"That's the one. He is known to be silent; his 'vow of silence' if you will. He just growls and moans a lot though. Somehow, the man with his huge physique and said "Adorable" features… he's a big softy. Always shy, especially around women. He does have a big heart, even though his mind is tortured with pain and revenge. We hope he can return to normal after this tournament."
"Wow. I can't believe I'm flying with the legendary King. I've heard about his fights so much… Do you think he would like something to eat?" Christie was awestruck.
"Doubt it. Though he probably would like a bottled water."
After getting some good nachos, Christie and Alejandro walked toward the terminal. People were starting to board. King was the only one sitting in the waiting area.
"Hi… uh thanks for the food, and I got you this…" she handed him the bottle of water with a shaking hand. King took it and nodded his gratitude. The three boarded the airplane and took their seats. Coincidently, Christie's window seat was right next to King's.
The plane took off and Christie turned on her iPod again. This time making sure that she turned off the repeat. She found a comedy podcast and started to watch it. It was bad timing when the refreshments came for the first round. After drinking a sip of her water, the comic made a hilarious joke and caused Christie to choke and spit out her water… all over King's magazine. She covered her mouth quickly and turned to face him with hesitation. King folded the magazine and threw it across the aisle to Alejandro, who was sleeping, and woke him up.
"I'm soooooo, so sorry." Christie apologized, but King made a sound between a cross a snort and a small chuckle. He raised his hand to stop her and got up from his seat. Rolling his sleeves up his massive forearms, he got an attendant's attention and pointed to some paper towels. Upon returning to his seat, he tore a piece off and gave it to Christie. He tore another for himself to dry the wet spots on his white jeans. When everything was dry and done, Christie turned off her iPod and slumped back into her chair.
"This is going to be one long flight." She moaned to herself. Her head snapped to the right when she heard the slight chuckle from King for the second time.
Boogity! So I hope you like this new Series. And I will give a hypothetical high 5 to the first person to tell me what the sneaky little Tiësto reference is (Besides the flashback) I put in the pilot. (Blarg I start Spring semester of College in ... two days exactly now... LAME!!! GOODNIGHT... or rather good morning since it's 3:02 A.M. WHATEVER!!! lol!)